


Electrical Tape

by cyclomonster



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Kisses, hardly original, holiday feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:45:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclomonster/pseuds/cyclomonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla has an endearing, if infuriating way of doing Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electrical Tape

**Author's Note:**

> Because who can resist holiday!Hollstein? *may or may not be inspired by my own failure at wrapping presents*

You’d think Laura’s neck would be strained by now, what with all the shaking. And her jaw should ache with all the passive-aggressive muttering she’d fired off from her spot behind the kitchen island. “Gah…ugh…seriously!?…she just…” She flexed her arms that were folded across her chest. _Deep breaths, Laura._  
  
Overreacting, you say? Consider this:  
  
Sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, that stupid vampire/love of her life was messing up yet another wrap job. Carmilla lifted the end of the gift wrap, letting the tube roll out. She sighed for the thousandth time that night and made a face at the paper. It was covered in tiny cute reindeer, which might explain why she was handling it like it’d been soaked in pee.  
  
Carmilla held it out in front of her, gliding the scissors up in a jagged line. Then she spread it over the box (a box! Square! Fool proof!) and tucked the ends underneath. “Hmm,” she drawled, narrowing her eyes.  
  
She’d managed to misjudge the measurements, again. Not that she’d even tried, mind you, having chucked the ruler over her shoulder and into the fireplace five presents ago. The ruler Laura had shoved into her hands before heading off to the kitchen to check on the pie. “Meh.” Carmilla shrugged and proceeded to slap some duct tape—no, electrical tape—across the bottom to hold it together. Then, with irksomely accurate trajectory, she slid the present across the carpet and under the tree to join the rest.  
  
“Damn it,” Laura hissed under her breath. “God _damn it,_ Carmilla.”  
  
Carmilla stretched her arms over her head and finally looked at her, smirking. “Looking a little stressed over there, babycakes. Can I help you with that?” And a wink.  
  
Despite everything, Laura laughed. “You’d think after centuries you’d have managed to learn how to do something this simple.”  
  
“On the contrary.” Carmilla grinned, standing up. “After centuries I’ve learned not to give a damn about such petty details.” She fluttered a hand over her heart. “It’s what’s on the _inside_ that counts, isn’t it?” She made her way across the living room to the island where Laura stood on the other side. The vampire’s lips were already puckered.  
  
“I hate you so much.” Laura stood on her tiptoes and leaned across the counter to accept the kiss. “Mmm,” she hummed against Carmilla’s mouth. She pulled back to look into her eyes for a moment before meeting her lips again.  
  
After they parted, Carmilla nodded toward the ceiling. Mistletoe was hanging above them. Taped there. With electrical tape. An _impressive_ amount of electrical tape. “Well, at least I did that right,” she said.  
  
“It has your signature, that’s for sure.” Laura kissed her again, because really, who could resist that cocky yet inexplicably bashful little smile?  
  
“Does this mean you forgive me?” Carmilla batted her eyelashes.  
  
Laura giggled and pinched her nose. “I guess.”  
  
“Great.” Carmilla looked past Laura’s shoulder. “Then I forgive you too.” Suddenly her eyes were full of unadulterated glee. “Such a shame.” 

“What?” Laura turned around. She gasped. Smoke was creeping out of the oven. “No, no, no!” She shoved on her oven mitts and sprinted to pull it open. 

  
Flash forward, and Carmilla was chuckling, helping her deal with the aftermath.  
  
Laura pouted at the burnt pastry.  
  
“Oh, sweetness,” Carmilla crooned. “Don't be upset. At least the house didn’t burn down, huh?”

Laura sighed wistfully and nodded. “Yeah, I guess that-” She jolted. “Wait.” She stomped over to the mistletoe, stood on her tiptoes, squinted at the mass of tape, and...yup. Yup. It was covering the fire alarm. Of course it was. “Carmilla. Karnstein.”

“Yes, my perfect baby angel honey sugar sprinkle?”

“You’re sleeping under the tree tonight.”  



End file.
